


Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds

by watyonameisgurl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Baby fic?, Fireman Niall, I’ll be honest this is mostly liam kid fic, Kid Fic, M/M, also, and lastly, because Liam—as am I—is unoriginal, but the majority of the ziam doesn’t really happen till close to the end, emt liam, except for maybe metaphorical ones lol, fair warning - minor plot holes and implausible plotlines/storylines abound, fireman Louis, gratuitous use of very general names, i can't believe that's actually even a tag lmao, i was cringing myself even just writing it lol, liam’s an emt at a fire department, like suuuuuper awkward, not intentionally that’s just how it ended up, or I guess technically, or putting out fires for that matter, rated m only for some very brief (very very brief) descriptions of sexual encounters, so if you came here mainly for zayn sorry folks, super awkward conversations, the secondhand embarrassment is real y’all, with not a lot of actual emt-ing going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:13:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watyonameisgurl/pseuds/watyonameisgurl
Summary: Liam might have a bit of an unhealthy fixation on the bike messenger who delivers his packages. He’s funny, just the right amount of nerdy, tattooed to the nines with perfect hair, effortless cool, a hint of an air of mystery, and just Liam’s type—beautiful and unattainable. He may or may not be flirting with Liam on a semi-regular basis, the jury’s still out on that one. But when through a case of mistaken identity Liam winds up with a baby things get awkward. Suffice it to say said development definitely puts a dent in his plans to ever work up the nerve to ask the guy out.





	Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> title from fob's i'm like a lawyer
> 
> full disclosure this is not my best work, the transitions are kind of all over the place, the plot’s a bit rushed (especially towards the end), and the characterizations are not all that great/kinda weak but this is really just something i kind of threw together over a period of a few days while i was feeling a bit down about my main fic and after marinating on it a while i decided i felt like it was still okay enough to post since it’s at least not complete trash lol
> 
> anyway you’ve been warned…
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>  
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> 
> **some stuff to know before you read:**
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> *”the line” is fireman lingo for the hose just fyi so no one’s confused on that
> 
> *and “care” is the uk term for foster care, idk why they don’t just say foster care lol seems like just using the word care by itself would cause a lot of confusion but i’m not british and i don’t make the rules so *shrugs*

Liam’s dreaming about The Guy again.

The one whose name he still doesn’t know but who always manages to get assigned the package deliveries for Liam’s building.

Liam catches him sometimes, riding up on his bike. When he’s home, that is. Waits at the window like a lovesick puppy on days he knows he’s getting a delivery and watches The Guy zip through traffic like it’s nothing, hair flying in the breeze cause he never wears a helmet (even though Liam’s pretty sure the bike messenger service The Guy works for requires him to wear one for safety reasons, but God does he look so much hotter and cooler without it even if it is unsafe).

Liam still doesn’t know his name though _he_ knows Liam’s, has to given that Liam’s name is emblazoned across all his packages. They flirt every time he comes by. Or at least Liam hopes it’s flirting and not just him reading into something where there’s nothing like he’s occasionally been wont to do. But it feels a lot like flirting. It never goes any farther than that though, just a bit of playful banter. And so far The Guy’s managed to use every trick in the book to cleverly avoid revealing his name whenever Liam tries to ask.

Despite that though Liam knows that they’ve got a heck of a lot in common. That they have the same taste in comics, listen to the same kinds of music, watch a lot of the same movies and shows, are both suckers for fast food, especially McDonald’s, and both love tattoos—The Guy maybe a little more than Liam considering he’s virtually covered in them whereas Liam’s pretty much kept it restricted to his arms for now.

Liam only sees him for a few minutes at a time every couple of weeks or so—would never admit even to his closest friends that on occasion he may have ordered something he didn’t really need just to have an excuse see him. But already he feels like he knows The Guy better than he’d known all of his last three boyfriends combined. Granted they’d all been fairly short-lived relationships, probably could be more accurately defined as flings than _actual_ relationships now that he thinks about it, but that’s beside the point.

This Guy is the first guy in a long time Liam’s felt like he actually had a connection with, could actually _see_ himself with, maybe even long-term—again if he’s not reading too much into what may just be nothing more than friendly conversation. And Liam knows he shouldn’t be fantasizing about him, considering he barely knows The Guy, sometimes feels wrong for even doing it when he catches himself, but he can’t be blamed for what his unconscious mind conjures up outside of his control.

Can’t be blamed for the way he imagines The Guy’s skin would feel underneath his hands, his mouth. What kinds of other intricately inked designs he imagines lay hidden underneath the fabric of the t-shirts he’s always wearing with the sleeves cut off and those too tight jeans that always look damn near painted on, ripped up to reveal just the barest hint of tan skin at his knees and thighs. How his hair would feel between Liam’s fingers, always managing to look so artfully tossed and perfectly sheened even despite all the wind that was sure to be whipping through it on his way here.

And God, his _mouth_. And those cheekbones. And those _eyes_. Warm brown like honey. Liam could get lost staring into those eyes. Could forget the whole world just for those eyes, just to feel those lips on his.

And okay. He might be a little bit in love with a guy he barely knows. But if that’s not the most quintessential him then he doesn’t know what is. It’s the story of his life really. Or more like the curse of his life. He’s always falling for the guys he can’t have, pining desperately from afar, and then settling for the next best thing because after all beggars can’t be choosers.

The Guy’s probably straight anyway. Probably has some flawless, perfect modelesque girlfriend whose beauty evenly matches his and Liam’s probably just wasting his time—and money—entertaining the idea that there could ever be more between them than just business and friendly conversation.

But still, that doesn’t stop his sleeping mind from wandering one bit. Doesn’t stop Liam from imagining how it would feel for them to be skin to skin. How all that lithe muscle would feel underneath his fingers, how those lips and teeth would feel against Liam’s own skin, the marks he would leave behind, how he would feel on top of Liam, _inside_ him.

Except that it’s right at that inopportune moment that Liam is suddenly rudely awaken by his next-door neighbor banging on their shared wall. “Shut that bloody baby up! For Christ’s sake, shut that damn thing up already!”

Liam jolts awake at the noise, confused and disoriented, yelling back an, “Okay! Okay!” automatically just to get to the other man to calm down and stop yelling.

His first instinct is to just roll over and go right back to sleep because it’s still early enough in the morning that it’s barely light out and he’s not supposed to be on call today so he’d been planning on sleeping in.

It takes him entirely too long to actually process the words his neighbor’s said. And even longer to register the slightly muffled but persistent sound of a baby crying out in the corridor.

 _What the fuck?_ He thinks, staring belatedly at the wall his neighbor just finished banging on. _Who would leave their crying baby out in the corridor like that? Especially at this hour in the morning?_

But before he can even finish the thought though he’s jumping up, already springing into EMT mode because despite his muddled thoughts his first concern is for the baby. And if they’ve really just been left unattended out in the corridor like he’s suspecting then something’s clearly wrong.

Except that when he opens the door it’s to find the baby not just sitting out in the middle of the corridor or in front of someone else’s door like he expected, but in front of _his_ flat door. Like they were left for _him_ specifically.

And what in the ever-living fuck.

*

Liam stares down at the baby on his doorstep in disbelief.

He’s trying and failing to process why someone would leave a baby on a random person’s doorstep, much less _his_ doorstep of all people, but he can’t seem to get himself to conjure up even one coherent thought, much less answer all the questions flying through his head. His mind somehow feels simultaneously like a complete blank and like it’s too full all at the same time. He’s not sure how that’s possible, but then he’s not sure about a lot of things right now.

It’s his neighbor’s distant banging yet again that finally snaps him out of his bewildered stupor and Liam blinks the world back into focus only to realize that there’s a note tucked into the side of the little infant car seat the baby’s been left in, a bit crumpled from the baby’s constant movement. The sound of the baby’s wails fill up the corridor as he—Liam’s going with he for now—kicks futilely against the constraints of the blanket he’s swaddled in inside the car seat and Liam crouches down to scoop the baby up along with the note, hoping it will provide some guidance or at least a clue as to what the hell is going on.

Cradling the baby against his chest he makes soothing sounds and gentle rocking motions trying his best to calm him or at least quiet him down enough to detract the attention of the neighbors. It doesn’t help much—he’s probably hungry and, from the feel of it, in need of a nappy change, none of which Liam can help with at the moment—but it’s enough to quiet him down a little at least to the point where he’s no longer screaming his poor little lungs out. Enough for Liam to take a moment to focus on the note and parse out what he can of what’s written there in fairly messy scrawl.

_Johnny,_

_Since you won’t answer your goddam phone or any of my messages you left me no choice. Take responsibility of what’s yours for once._

_Amira_

Well.

Liam is most certainly not Johnny. Nor has he ever knocked anyone up considering he’s only slept with a girl once and, given the givens—the givens being a proclivity for genitalia of the male variety that he wasn’t quite ready to admit to yet at the time—didn’t exactly reach the fateful point that would lead to pregnancy. Not to mention that was years ago and this baby’s clearly a newborn, no more than a couple weeks old by the looks of it and that’s being modest, he’s so small Liam wouldn’t be surprised if he was just days old.

He knows a Johnathan used to live here though. Has gotten mail addressed to his flat with that name a time or two before, enough to know that whoever he is he didn’t bother to leave a forwarding address. Or even notify the necessary legal channels of his change in address given that at least one of the envelopes Liam mistakenly received on one occasion had looked to be a jury duty summons.

So.

Here he is with a crying baby at the ass crack of dawn on a Tuesday with no supplies on hand and no way to contact said parents of the baby.

If this were The Office he’d be staring sarcastically into a camera right now. But it’s not. And all he’s got to stare at is the hungry, wet, wailing newborn in his arms. And so Liam does the only thing he knows how to do best. Takes care of him.

*

Liam walks down to the nearest 24-hour convenience store, trying his best to console the baby as much as he can. People shout at him from their open windows, angry at having their sleep disturbed so early in the morning but he just ignores it. Nothing he can do about it except try to fix the problem, which is what he’s on his way to do anyway.

“We’re alright. We’re ok, right? Yes, we are. Yes, we are,” Liam says in his best baby-voice, rocking and bouncing the baby against him as he walks, doing his best shield his tiny exposed head from the chilly air of the morning. “They’re just mad cause you’ve got some lungs on you. They’re just jealous, that’s all. But don’t you worry about them. Don’t you worry about those meanies, we’re not gonna let them bother us, are we? No, we aren’t. Cause they don’t know that you’re just hungry and wanna be clean. That’s all you want, isn’t it? And we’re gonna get you a nice warm bottle of formula and a clean nappy and you’ll be good as new. Just hold on a little longer, buddy. I got you, don’t worry.”

When he gets to the store Liam grabs the first two packages of nappies he sees along with some baby wipes, baby powder, formula, bottled water, and a pack of baby bottles, figuring he may as well just go ahead and buy in bulk, not being sure how much he’ll need or for how long until he figures out definitively what he’s gonna do. The baby cries the whole way of course and the clerk glares at Liam the entire time he’s walking through the aisles trying to juggle the baby in one hand and the basket in the other and get everything inside the basket without dropping the baby.

Clearly the better option would have been the trolley but he hadn’t exactly been thinking about that when he first walked in. He’s too used to shopping for just himself. Usually all he bothers to take the time to think about is how much he’s buying and whether it’s a small enough amount to go with the basket or large enough that he’ll need the trolley, not how many free hands he has or how he’s gonna maneuver with one occupied.

The clerk rings him up quickly—which he’s thankful for even if it is clearly just to get him and the baby out faster—glaring at him the whole time. The man rolls his eyes and sighs exasperatedly when Liam asks where the loo is, but directs him anyway. Liam thanks him, grabbing up the bags and high-tailing it to the back.

“Don’t you worry,” he says to the baby, “we’re gonna get you clean real soon, I promise.”

He sends a silent prayer of thanks up to god or whoever might be listening when he unswaddles the baby to find it _is_ indeed a boy. At least this way he’s got _some_ idea of what he’s doing. Liam gets him cleaned up and changed into a clean nappy, sending another silent prayer of thanks at the fact that it’s just pee and there’s no huge mess to clean up for now. And yet another for the neo-natal training he’d had to take for his certification, before which he’d known next to squat about taking care of babies and would have been completely unprepared for this whole situation. Well. Less so than he already is anyway.

He’d never been all that great at swaddling even in his training so he doesn’t do the best job at reswaddling him. But it’s better than nothing and it really just needs to be enough to get him back home comfortably so it’ll have to do for now. Besides, Liam figures he can always fix it later. Right now the next most urgent thing is getting him fed.

His cries have quieted some with the nappy change so Liam doesn’t feel too bad about leaving him to lay on the changing table while he prepares the formula, figuring it would be too much of a challenge attempting to hold him and rock him with only one hand free to work with everything else. Liam pops open the container, scoops out the necessary amount with the little scooper attached to the lid into a freshly opened baby bottle, mixes in the bottled water, gives it a few good shakes until it looks like it’s properly blended and then scoops the baby, halfway swaddled and all, back up into his arms.

He won’t take it at first. Just keeps crying and turning his head away but Liam’s determined.

“Come on, buddy, work with me here,” Liam pleads in as soothing a voice as he can manage. “I know it’s not as good as the real thing or even the warm version but it’s all we got right now. Just a little, yeah? Just have a little and I _promise_ you’ll get a nice warm bottle as soon as we get back. Come on, little man, I know you’re hungry.”

It takes a bit more pleading but eventually he finally relents, latching on and drinking about a third of the bottle before he won’t take any more.

“Alright, that’s fair. I’ll take it,” Liam says with a nod. “Took me at my word, huh? Bit of a literal one, you are, but that’s alright. You kept your word, I’ll keep mine.”

Liam caps the baby bottle and the water, packs the formula back up, takes a few minutes to walk around the small space of the loo with the baby, patting him until he burps, and then he piles the handles of all the bags onto his free arm and heads back out. By the time they make it back to the other side of the store and out the door the baby’s fast asleep in his arms.

It’s a relatively quiet walk back to the flat, no crying and, thankfully, no yelling from windows this time. When they get back Liam lays the baby down to sleep in his car seat, unpacking all the things from the bags as quietly as possible. He gets out a pot, pouring the cold formula in it but not heating it up quite yet, figuring the little lad will probably be up and hungry again before too long considering how little of the bottle he had and looking for the fresh warm bottle Liam promised no doubt.

True to form it’s not long. Liam’s set the car seat on the floor next to the couch in his little living room area, laid across the cushions himself to rest a little while keeping an eye on the baby. He’d inevitably fallen asleep but a quick glance at the time on his stove tells him it’s been just a little over an hour when he’s woken up by cries that haven’t gotten too loud. Yet.

Liam springs up, grabbing the baby and heading for the stove, rocking him gently while he flicks the stove on.

“I know, I know, it’s coming, don’t worry. I kept my promise, just a couple more minutes, little guy.”

When it looks about warm enough Liam turns the stove off before it can get too hot, pouring it in the bottle as best he can one handed. He makes a bit of a mess on the counter but that’s the least of his worries right now. Once he’s tested it out on his hand to make sure it’s a safe enough temperature to drink he maneuvers the baby in his arms until he’s at an okay angle to drink and lets him go to town.

“There we go. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? That’s all you wanted, I know.”

He drinks nearly the whole bottle right down and Liam rocks and pats him till he burps. Which is about the time his nappy starts to feel a bit heavy, heavier than earlier and it takes a few moments for the smell to hit but when it does Liam knows it’s time to bring in the big guns.

Baby wipes, baby powder, and a fresh nappy on deck Liam lays him out on the living room floor with a towel underneath him while he cleans him up.

“Yeah, you were about due for that one, weren’t ya?”

All Liam gets for his efforts is good-natured babbling but he’ll take it. It’s a hell of a lot better than screaming and crying.

Changed, fed, and burped he sleeps for a solid five hours before he’s up again. Liam jolts awake in surprise and confusion, momentarily having forgotten in his peaceful slumber the current situation at hand.

 _Right_. _Baby_ , he thinks, looking down at the infant crying and kicking at his confines inside his car seat.

Liam scoops him up, laying him out to get him changed, which is thankfully just a pee situation again this time and then rocks with him at the stove, making soothing noises to try and quiet the baby as much as he can as he fills up the kettle, scooping out formula into a fresh bottle while he waits for it to heat up.

“Hungry little guy, aren’t ya?” Liam says teasingly as he watches him down most of the bottle again.

Liam burps him and then sets him back down in the car seat where he stays awake for about half an hour or so. Liam chats idly with him about nothing in particular while he cleans up, only getting more babbling and gurgling in response but it’s nice. Liam’s always been at his best when he feels like he can be helpful—it’s a big part of the reason he became an EMT to begin with—so having someone to take care of like this, even if it is supposed to be his day off, is kind of grounding in a weird way.

It’s not his responsibility, or rather it _shouldn’t_ be, but he finds he doesn’t really mind all that much actually. This little guy needs him. And for however long that’s the case Liam’s gonna do his best to take care of him.

*

“A _baby_?” Louis says, incredulous, when he comes over to personally inquire about why Liam’s been dodging his and Niall’s calls all week and why he had to find out from their captain that Liam’s been blowing through all his vacation days at once.

“Keep it _down_ please,” Liam whispers frantically, rocking Baby—as he’s taken to calling him for now—gently in his arms. “I’ve been trying to get him to sleep for nearly an hour now and he only just stopped crying a little before you came.”

“Liam, _what_ _the hell_ ,” Louis whisper-screams, at least taking the time out to be considerate for once when there’s a baby involved which is more than Liam can say for most things involving Louis. But then he’s the oldest of six siblings so it’s understandable that he’d have a soft spot when it comes to babies. “You can’t just—you can’t just _take_ a baby.”

“I didn’t _take_ him, he was _left_ here,” Liam whispers back frustrated at having to re-explain what he’d already explained to Louis when he first opened the door with Baby in one arm, a bottle in the other, and a towel covered in vomit draped over his shoulder.

“That doesn’t—” Louis makes up his face and shakes his head like he can’t even believe he has to say what he’s saying. “That doesn’t make it any better! Liam, that’s someone’s _baby_!”

“I know that, thanks.”

“Do you, Liam? Do you _really_? Because this is ridiculous.”

 _More ridiculous than having a whispered argument in the middle of my kitchen at nine in the morning?_ Liam wants to say back but instead what he says is, “What was I supposed to do, Louis? Just leave him out in the corridor to cry his lungs out?”

“Of course not, but that’s not an excuse to just keep him. This is a _human child_ we’re talking about, mate, not a stray puppy.”

“You think I haven’t tried to find his parents? They don’t wanna be found. I tried the landlord, the property manager, all of the neighbors who were here before I moved in. None of them knows a thing about the last guy who lived here or where to find him. No phone number, no forwarding address, nothing. Not even any mates I can try and contact. All I’ve got is a name, and a generic one at that, Johnathan Carter. Do you know many google search results come back on a name like Johnathan Carter? _Too damn many_ , that’s what. I can’t sift through fifty fucking million results in the hopes that I _might_ find him and give him his kid back and I’ve got absolutely nothing on the mum, though it’s not like it would even make a spot of difference.

“His parents clearly don’t want him, not that they deserve him since they’re both shit anyway. His mum freaking abandoned him in front of my flat with nothing but a blanket and a note without even taking the time to check if the person she thought lived here _actually_ still lived here and his dad’s a deadbeat who can’t even be arsed to change his address. The only option is to put him into care but if I do that he’s lost to the system and probably spends most of his life bouncing from shitty home to even shittier home with people who just want to make money off him, or worse hurt him. At least here he’s got someone who cares about him.”

Louis sighs, raising his palms to Liam in surrender. “Look, I understand that you feel for the kid, I _do_. It’s a shitty situation all around but that doesn’t mean _you_ have to be the one to take it on.”

“If not me, then who? He was left on _my_ doorstep—”

“By _mistake_. By a shitty person.”

“Except that maybe it wasn’t a mistake. Maybe it’s the universe trying to tell me something.”

“Tell you what? That you should’ve been straight and knocked up a girl so you could be a struggling single dad? Are you _that_ sleep-deprived?”

“Louis—”

“No, _listen_. Because I don’t think you’ve properly thought this through, Liam. This isn’t something you can just do for a little while and move on. This is a _life-long_ commitment. This is a _child_. A child that’s gonna need your time and your attention and your money and your care _all the time_. There’s no bowing out of this when you get tired or decide you don’t want to do it anymore, this is your _entire life_. _He’s_ going to be your entire life.”

“I _know_ that. You think I haven’t thought this through but, Louis, I’ve spent a week on that couch bawling my eyes out and ripping my hair to shreds agonizing over this. Damn near worked myself into three panic attacks, and I can’t explain it but…every time I look into his eyes I just _know_. This is where I’m supposed to be. I know how insane it sounds, how insane it _looks_ , trust me, but when he’s laying right here in my arms,” Liam says softly, looking down at Baby’s peaceful sleeping face with a smile he can’t help, “it feels right. It feels like this is exactly how it was supposed to be, like he was _meant_ to be with me and I just…I can’t let him go. I won’t send him back to people who don’t even want him even if I do ever manage to track down his parents, and I won’t put him in a system that’s only gonna end up doing him more hurt than good. I know it’s a lot to commit to and I know it won’t be easy but…we can make it.”

Louis sinks back onto the arm of Liam’s couch with a deep, resigned sigh watching Liam rock back and forth across the kitchen with a soundly sleeping Baby. “For your sake and for his I hope you’re right.” There’s a long pause and another resigned sigh as Louis watches him walk past the couch to put Baby down to sleep in the little portable bassinette Liam’s gotten him until he can spring for a proper crib. Louis slides down from the arm to settle next to him properly on the couch, the two of them looking down at Baby fondly. “He’s cute. I’ll give his arsehole parents _that_.” Another pause, a glance at Liam, and then, “Niall’s gonna shit his pants when he finds out.”

*

Niall does indeed very nearly shit his pants when Liam tells him. It’s Liam’s first day back to work in nearly two and half weeks, having finally found a babysitter he trusts and he hates being away from Baby—feels like he’s going through withdrawal every second they spend apart—but he’s also got to pay the bills.

Niall chokes on his sandwich at the kitchen bench and Louis claps him on the back until he can breathe properly again, looking back and forth between the two of them like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Not a joke, mate,” Louis assures him. “I’ve seen him with my own two eyes.”

“And you told _him_ before you told _me_?” Niall says. “He told me you were out sick with the _flu_.”

Liam looks down at the table a little guiltily and shrugs. He’s thankful for Louis keeping his secret but that doesn’t mean he feels any better about lying to Niall all this time. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I wanted you to hear it from me, in person. Ideally I wanted to tell you both at the same when I was ready but…he just kind of showed up at my flat unannounced and I couldn’t exactly hide it then, could I, so…” Liam trails off, shrugging again, and Niall reaches across the table to pat him comfortingly on the arm.

“It’s alright, mate, I forgive ya. Just maybe don’t keep me out of the loop for so long next time, yeah?”

“’Course,” Liam says, aiming a small smile at him, glad that they’re okay.

“So…what’s his name? When can I meet him?”

“Oh. Ummm…”

“Hasn’t even properly named him yet, the tosser,” Louis answers for him. “Can you believe it? S’been walking around for two weeks with a baby that he calls _Baby_ like a nutter.”

“It’s just there’s so many to pick from, I _can’t choose_ ,” Liam argues.

“Right,” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “So you can decide you wanna take care of a whole baby and make a life-long commitment all on your own, but you can’t pick a decent name out of the multitude available.”

“Oh, leave him alone, Lou, he’s trying. He’ll pick one eventually.”

“Yeah, hopefully before the time the kid turns eighteen if he’s lucky.”

“Shut up.” Liam snorts, flicking the crumbs of his own lunch in Louis’ direction.

And that’s how he knows that yeah, they’re definitely okay. Back to normal, as it were. As back to normal as things are gonna get now anyway.

*

Unfortunately he can’t say the same for things with him and The Guy. Not that there was ever anything definitive enough going on between them to change much anyway. But Liam’s pretty sure that if there ever even _was_ a chance, however slim, once he finds out Liam has a baby that chance goes from one in a million to…negative one in a million. Or whatever’s less than one in a million. Maths was never really Liam’s strong suit.

Point being he avoids ordering things or having anything delivered for as long as he possibly can. Until he can’t.

Baby’s in desperate need of a sound machine. His sleep’s gotten increasingly worse instead of better over the passing weeks. He’ll only sleep when Liam’s sings to him—which makes things monumentally tough on the babysitter if Liam happens to be in a situation where she can’t call and have him sing through the phone. And lately it’s gotten to the point where he’ll only stay asleep as long as Liam’s singing and wakes up crying the second he stops until he tires himself out enough that he falls asleep from exhaustion. Needless to say Liam’s been walking around looking like death personified, running on practically no sleep himself and is in desperate of a solution.

Perusing all the best mommy forums—which have quickly become his go-to for any and everything related to or involving Baby—is where he finds one. Almost everyone in the section of the forum he finds himself in, the section for people struggling with particularly irritable babies or just babies with sleep issues, praises and swears by this one particular brand and model of sound machines like it’s a God-given miracle; saying it’s the only thing that got their baby to sleep soundly after trying every other trick and method they could think of and nearly every other sound machine out there.

Liam’s at his wit’s end and willing to try anything if it’ll get them both some sleep. Plus he’s found that that specific model allows for recordings, which he figures at the very least he can use as a last resort to record his voice and play it on a loop if none of the other sounds or songs do the job. The only problem is it’s only available online. Which Liam unfortunately only concludes _after_ hunting like a sleep-deprived zombie night after night through store after store for days on end.

But all that inevitably leads to The Guy biking his way up the street to Liam’s building, tattoos and tan skin on display, perfect hair whipping in the wind and Liam’s stomach drops out from underneath him. Because Baby’s still screaming his lungs out, every article of clothing Liam’s wearing smells like vomit, and neither of them have slept for more than an hour all night. He could change at least but that only means washing more clothes and it does nothing to help the bags under his eyes, or the screaming baby in his arms.

“Come on, buddy, please, _please_ ,” Liam croaks, voice shot from singing practically all night. Normally at this point he’d be playing a recording of himself from his phone and they’d both be fast asleep but his phone’s dead and he can’t find his charger. Is half convinced that either Baby ate it or the sitter took it because he’s certain he left it either on his nightstand or in his gym bag, the only two places he ever keeps it besides his pocket. It’s nowhere to be found though which means he’s stuck with nothing but his actual, quickly fading voice. “ _Please_ , little guy? Just a few minutes, yeah? That’s all I’m asking. Just a few minutes, just until the hot guy leaves again and then I promise you and me are gonna sleep the whole day away.”

No dice. Figures. Baby never goes for Liam’s deals unless it involves some form of food or a toy, but he had to try.

Liam sees The Guy park his bike in the bike rack at the front of the building, locking it in place, and starts singing desperately, croaked voice and all. He’s so delirious he’s not even entirely sure what he’s singing, some weird mashed-up combination of nursery rhymes maybe. It sounds awful but it’s something at least and Baby finally starts to quiet down a little. It’s short lived though, doesn’t last for more than a minute before Liam’s voice starts cracking, going in and out of a hoarse whisper and Baby starts screaming again.

Liam chances another peek out the window, sees The Guy jogging up the front steps with what’s likely his package along with a few others probably belonging to some of the other tenants.

 _Fuck_.

He’ll be at Liam’s door any moment now. He’s got maybe a minute, two if he’s lucky and the other packages happen to be for people on other floors, before The Guy gets to his floor.

Liam’s sweating bullets, rocking and pacing and humming desperately, though mostly all that’s coming out are soundless hisses of breath.

When he hears the faint sound of the door to the stairwell at the other end of the corridor creaking open he panics. Without even thinking he dashes over to his alarm clock and slams his hand down on the power button, radio blaring to life, and then turns the volume up as loud as it will go.

He doesn’t even care that it’s some loud rock song that under normal circumstances he would probably never listen to. All he cares about right now is the fact that it’s just loud enough to cover up Baby’s wails (that his neighbor’s thankfully not in today to complain about), which have only grown louder and more insistent with the blasting of the music.

He presses a hand to Baby’s ear, the ear not already currently pressed into his chest and says, “I know, I know, it’s just for a couple minutes I swear,” as he frantically searches for his headphones, holding the oversized things in place over Baby’s ears.

He just barely manages to catch the faint sound of a knock over all the noise, signifying the The Guy’s arrival.

“Liam?” he calls, his voice muffled through the other side of the door and all the music.

He waits a beat before knocking again, a little louder this time, but Liam doesn’t answer, resolved to wait it out. This thankfully isn’t a delivery requiring a signature so Liam’s banking on him just eventually giving up and leaving it there. Which, after a couple minutes it seems like, is what he does cause not long after Liam sees him jogging back down the front steps, hands empty, and goes to turn off the radio. Watches The Guy unlock his bike and take off down the street, hair and shirt whipping beautifully in the wind again, and breathes a sigh of relief.

He practically tears the packaging apart in his haste to get it open, eternally grateful that it comes with batteries and a screw driver included just like the review videos online said it would so he doesn’t have to go hunting all around his flat for any of that. Once he’s got it all set up he powers it on, playing the first lullaby in the set.

Baby’s not a fan and neither is Liam cause quite frankly the first one sounds a bit creepy, but he keeps cycling through the options until he finally finds one that Baby likes. It’s peaceful and calming with a nice soothing melody that even Liam thinks he could fall asleep to and Baby quiets down immediately, cries fading into soft gurgles and eventually, finally, _finally_ , complete silence.

 _Thank you_ , Liam mouths to the ceiling, feeling like he could _cry_ with how amazing the relief feels washing over him. He places Baby as gently and carefully as he can into his crib, bracing himself while he waits to make sure Baby really is soundly asleep and not planning on waking up anytime soon. Once Liam’s certain that Baby’s out, he secures the sound machine—which also doubles as a night light and a plush toy shaped like an owl for him to play with—to the side of Baby’s crib by its velcro strips, and then promptly collapses into his own bed.

True to form both of them are dead to the world for a solid seven hours and it’s the deepest sleep Liam’s had in probably forever. Despite wishing they both could have slept a little longer Liam wakes feeling refreshed and ready to take on a full night of baby duty. It might be a bit of a challenge that he’ll regret later getting Baby back into a solid, semi-regular sleep schedule after so long spent crying through the night and sleeping in stops and starts through the day. But for now he’ll take what he can get.

*

“He’s probably convinced you’re avoiding him,” Niall says months later when they’re out on a call. Liam’s had to get three more deliveries in the time since, all online-only items, and every time he’s ignored Zayn’s knock, managing to keep Baby relatively quiet long enough for him to leave without Liam having to show his face.

“Or he just thinks no one’s home,” Liam counters, watching Louis and a couple of the other guys pull out the line from the truck so they can put out the small fire in this family’s backyard before it grows any bigger. The idiot dad had gone all Gordon Ramsey on the grill trying to flambé a steak to impress their friends and neighbors with next to zero actual professional cooking experience and inevitably ended up starting a fire and nearly lighting himself up in the process, though he managed to narrowly avoid it. Liam almost wishes he _had_ hurt himself just a little to learn his lesson proper, but hopefully the experience itself was lesson enough on its own. Thankfully no one’s actually hurt so Liam’s really just here as a formality but he helps out where he can, keeping the rest of the partygoers calm and clear of the scene while Louis, Niall, and the others work on putting out the remains of the grill and the surrounding shrubbery.

Half the yard’s a charred mess by the time it’s over and the wife is understandably angry but none of that’s their problem. They pack up and clear out and Niall picks the conversation right back up from where they left off like it never even stopped.

“Possibly,” he agrees. “But from his viewpoint that’s still three times in a row that you’ve scheduled a delivery at times you knew you wouldn’t be home compared to nearly every other time before when you _were_ and made a point to talk to him. No matter which way you look at it, it still looks like avoidance.”

Liam shrugs. “Yeah, well, I doubt he’s even really noticed anyway. I mean, I’m one of dozens of people he delivers to, I’m probably just another customer he happens to chat to on his route, nothing special.”

“Won’t know unless you try,” Louis cuts in, looking up from the text conversation he’s been furiously engrossed in since the moment they got back in the truck.

“Won’t know what unless I try what?” Liam says.

“Won’t know if you’re something special to him or not unless you ask him out,” Louis explains.

Liam just blinks at him. “Are you mental?”

“Well, I’m not the one who randomly adopted a stranger’s baby. So, no,” Louis deadpans.

Liam rolls his eyes. “First off, I don’t even know that he likes guys. Be just my luck since I always fall for the straight ones anyway. For all I know he’s already got an equally hot girlfriend. Or boyfriend, if he _does_ like guys. And anyway even if he does, no way is he gonna go for the creep whose packages he sometimes delivers who’s always staring at him when we talk and who watches him come and go on his bike through the window.”

“Well, _he_ doesn’t know all that obviously.”

“Yeah, well, he’ll know I have a baby the second I open the door. It’s not like I can very well hide him anywhere in my studio flat, and even if by some slim chance he wanted to go out with me having a baby is decidedly unsexy and a surefire way to turn that yes into a no.”

“It’s called taking a chance, Payno. Like I said, you won’t know until you try. And besides the worst that can happen is that he says no and you move on, and that’s it. End of story.”

Except it’s not end of story cause if he does say no Liam will still have to see him every time he orders something. Unless The Guy changes his route after, which would only make Liam feel worse cause he’d know it was because of him. And that’s all if Liam doesn’t die of shame and embarrassment first from the rejection alone. He’d much rather just keep the fantasy in his head where he doesn’t have to worry about being hurt or judged and he can just imagine all the good parts of the relationship. The imaginary relationship that he dreamed up in his head and regularly fantasizes about because he has a problem. A problem that he won’t ever admit to, not even to Louis or Niall— _especially_ not to Louis or Niall—because that would mean yet again more shame and embarrassment. And possibly a mental hospital or two. He’s aware that he has a problem, okay? He just…needs to try and keep a better lid on it, that’s all.

*

Liam isn’t expecting Zayn for another hour. He’s got Baby all ready for an outing in the park, cooing at him as he claps and babbles and bounces around in his bouncy chair. They’re waiting on Louis and Niall to arrive so they can all go get some food and enjoy the nice weather, maybe take a stroll through the park so Baby can see the ducks. And also be out of the house by the time Zayn gets here to drop off a package Liam has coming.

Niall and Louis can’t seem to decide on where they should go to eat, which means they’ll probably just end up going somewhere generic to get fish and chips—well, the adults will be eating fish and chips, Baby’ll just be eating an order of mashy peas and maybe a mashed up chip or two if he’s good. Niall’s just texted though to say they’re almost to his flat. Which is why a few minutes later when there’s a knock on the door Liam doesn’t even check to see who it is before he opens it.

Only to find someone who is very much _not_ Louis or Niall standing on the other side. Someone with tan skin and tattoos, perfect hair, and honey brown eyes.

Liam freezes, stares, completely at a loss for what to say.

Zayn is. Zayn is _here_. Right now. In front of him. And can clearly see Baby bouncing around in his chair right behind Liam.

He wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour. That’s what the automated update text from the bike messenger company said when he made the order. And what the follow-up text confirmed this morning. But here he is. Standing in front of Liam with a package in his hand and wide eyes going from Liam to Baby, bouncing around and babbling behind him.

Liam opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. “He’s not mine,” Liam blurts in a rush, and then scrambles to explain. “I mean, he _is_ mine, just not, like…biologically. Or legally. Yet. Which I’m realizing now that I’ve said it loud like that sounds _really_ bad, but I promise there’s a good explanation, it’s just…a really weird story that you probably don’t want to hear or care about and I’m gonna shut up now and I’ll just, um, take this and leave you to your, um…duties.”

Liam reaches out to take the package from him and then stands there for a moment, red in the face, unsure if he should close the door considering The Guy still hasn’t said anything and doesn’t appear to be leaving. Liam doesn’t want to just shut the door in his face because that would be incredibly rude but he’s embarrassed himself plenty enough already for this early in the day and he’d really prefer for The Guy to leave him to his own shame now.

“I…um…” The Guy says, clearly as much at a loss for words as Liam had been when he’d first opened the door. “Is…Is that why you’ve been…like…avoiding me…lately?” he says slowly before he explains. “It’s just that…I came here early hoping that you might still be here so I could apologize cause I figured, like, maybe I said something the last time we talked that made you upset, but…” he trails off, eyes drifting back to Baby and Liam fills the rest in for himself in his head.

_But if this is why then I guess I’ll just leave you alone and be on my way cause you clearly have your hands full._

_If this is why then I guess I don’t need to apologize after all cause you’re clearly just a dick who likes to avoid people and hide things._

_If this is why then I guess you can kiss my (beautiful) ass goodbye cause I don’t like kids and I don’t like you and I won’t be coming around here anymore._

“Right, um…” Liam starts, trying to figure out a good way to explain without making even more of an arse out of himself. But then…

“Holy shit, is that him?” an overexcited voice calls from down the corridor, unmistakably Louis’ and Liam groans inwardly, shutting his eyes. Could this moment _get_ any worse? “It _is_ him! It’s Hot Bike Messenger Guy! Shit, you know I thought Liam was exaggerating but he actually _is_ really hot.” There’s a muffled slapping sound as if Louis’ just clipped Niall on the shoulder and Niall mutters out a brief string of curses in response only to be interrupted by Louis. “Come on, buck up and show some respect, Niall, we are in the presence of a literal god. At least according to Liam anyway.” And then Louis comes into view in front of the doorway followed by Niall, Louis sticking a hand out toward The Guy with a too-bright smile and an honest-to-god bow of his head. “Pleased to make your acquaintance Hot Bike Messenger Guy, I’m Louis and this is Niall. We’ve heard _all_ about you.”

And Liam hadn’t thought it was possible for his face to get any redder than it already was but here he is. If he were to spontaneously combust right now from the sheer amount of heat radiating out from his entire body he thinks he would actually welcome it. In fact, right now would be a _great_ time for him to just dissolve into a pile of ash. _Please universe_ , he begs, _if there’s anyone listening out there with a heart please just_ _go ahead and do your thing_.

Nothing.

Figures the universe would fuck him over precisely when he didn’t need it to and then crap out on him when he actually does.

And to top it all off, as if any of this whole fucked up situation needed any _more_ fodder, Baby lets out a jovial scream of delight from behind Liam when he sees Louis and Niall.

Louis abruptly ends the handshake to file right past Liam through the doorway and over to Baby, cooing, “Hey, little guy! That’s right, Uncle Louis’ here, can you say Loo-ee, Loo-ee…”

Niall gives a polite nod of his own to The Guy in greeting and then trails after Louis to go coo after Baby too, and Liam’s left still standing there in the doorway while The Guy stares after the two of them with furrowed brows and a completely confused look on his face.

“Um…” Liam starts again, but before he can figure out any kind of coherent sentence to say to explain or at least apologize for this whole mess The Guy speaks up instead.

“I should probably…go,” he says still looking lost as he starts to turn on his heal.

“O-okay,” Liam says lamely because it’s all he can manage.

Liam can’t bear to watch him walk away though and so he shuts the door before The Guy can even get more than two steps away and then promptly slides the down the other side of it to the floor.

“I take it you didn’t ask him out then,” Louis says, turning to him with raised eyebrows and a giggling Baby in his arms and Liam just glares at him before dropping his face miserably to his knees.

*

Weeks pass and Liam tries his best to forget about it. Tries to throw himself into work and taking care of Baby but the one thing he can’t do is fool _himself_. Especially on nights when he feels particularly lonely. Normally those are the times when he thinks of The Guy. Fantasizes about them going on romantic dates that may or may not lead to more, movie dates and park dates and breakfast in bed, late morning cuddles and kisses on the couch with Baby playing on the floor in front of them. Now though he feels too guilty to even think about it. Can’t stop thinking about the look on The Guy’s face the moment he’d landed eyes on Baby and how he’d been all too eager to run away from Liam’s mess of a life. And Liam doesn’t blame him one bit.

Liam thinks if the shoe were on the other foot—if he didn’t have Baby and it was _him_ in The Guy’s shoes looking in on someone else’s life—he would run far away too.

So, no, he doesn’t blame him. Even if he wishes he could because honestly he’d do anything to _stop_ thinking about him, to put The Guy and all the stupid fantasies that come with him out of his head for good. But it’s like no matter what he does, no matter how he tries to distract himself, like a boomerang they always come right back at the most inopportune moments. Especially moments like these when he’s at his most lonely.

And Baby, ever the kindred spirit, somehow always seems to pick up on it because as usual it’s then that he starts crying. Liam sighs, getting up to comfort him, feeling a bit like it’s really the other way around at the moment as he holds Baby to his chest and hums out a random melody. And Christ, Liam really needs to figure out a name. He can’t let the poor kid go his whole life being called Baby.

*

“How ‘bout Max?” Niall says, flicking a large crumb from his sandwich across the table into the “goal” Louis’ made up with his fingers.

“Nah,” Liam says.

“Zander?” he tries instead.

“No.”

“Allen,” Louis suggests.

“Definitely not.”

“Mark.”

“Mm-mm.”

“Dylan?” Niall proposes.

“With a Y and an A or an I and an O?” Louis asks.

“Y and A obviously,” Niall answers and Louis nods.

“No and no.” Liam sighs. “This isn’t working.”

“What about something Asian?” Niall says. “I mean he does look like he might be a bit Asian. Maybe like a fourth Indian or Pakistani or something.”

Liam makes a face. “S’a bit…I don’t know…insensitive, isn’t it? To just give him a random Asian name just cause he looks a little Asian?”

“Any more insensitive than giving him a white name if he _is_ Asian?” Louis poses.

Liam sighs. “I don’t know,” he says miserably, dropping his head to the table. “It’s too early in the morning for these kinds of questions.”

“Is it too early in the morning for _those_ kinds of questions?” Louis says, looking past Liam, eyebrows raised.

“What?” Liam says, confused, whipping around to follow his line of sight only to find The Guy— _The_ Guy—standing by the side entrance to the station. _His_ station. Right fucking now. In real life.

Liam squeezes his eyes shut and then blinks them open again, needing to make sure he’s not hallucinating from lack of sleep, or literally anything else really that would mean The Guy isn’t really standing there meters away from him with his hair perfectly disheveled like always and the toe of his boot scuffing adorably into the ground.

Liam swallows, stares, eyes wide as saucers.

“Well, _go on_ ,” Louis prods, leaning across the table to shove him in the shoulder.

Liam still doesn’t move for a moment, stunned into silence and immobility but when Louis shoves at him a second time he finally manages to remember how to make his feet work and stumbles up from the bench, head ducked and cheeks flaming.

“H-hi,” he stutters out when he’s close enough.

“Hi.” The Guy smiles back, and Liam’s hopes he’s not reading into things again when he thinks to himself that The Guy’s smile looks a little bashful. Maybe.

“What, um—” Liam cuts himself, voice cracking embarrassingly, before he clears his throat and tries again. “What are you, um…doing here? How did you even find me?”

The Guy shrugs, looks down at the ground, hair falling over his face and Liam’s fingers itch to sweep it back. “I might have…asked around about you to your neighbors. After I maybe showed up unannounced to your flat to apologize and you weren’t there. That Mrs. Petersen is really sweet, by the way.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Liam says, smiling a little fondly thinking of the little old lady that lives in the flat directly across from him. She’s the only one of his neighbors who always strikes up friendly conversation with him when they run into each other in the corridor and has even watched Baby on occasion when Liam was in a crunch and couldn’t find a sitter in time. Liam’s pretty sure she sneaks Baby sweets too, but he doesn’t mind.

“Anyway, I, um…I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” The Guy continues. “For, like…for the way I ducked out and everything. That was pretty shit of me, especially considering the whole reason I came was to apologize and I didn’t even really properly do that. It’s just…I was so confused, I mean…I thought we kind of, like, had a thing? Maybe? Although if that’s wrong, it’s totally cool, like, no biggie, really. But, like, then all of a sudden you had a baby and he’s not yours but he is and then your friends were calling me hot and I wasn’t sure if they were, like, _actually_ your friends or if it was, like, maybe a polyamorous type of deal and I felt kind of like I was intruding so I just…left. But in hindsight I could’ve probably handled that way better. I’ve been told I’m not the greatest in social situations and I tend to jump to conclusions, especially when there’s a lot going on and I can’t process all of it. My mind just starts running and I tend to just kind of…retreat. And I’m working on getting better at that but anyway that’s not really important and I’m rambling, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry and I hope things can maybe not be too awkward between us and maybe we can still be friends if that’s cool? Or not. You know, like, whatever you’re comfortable with is fine, but just, um…yeah.”

Liam stares. For a really long time he just stares. So long that The Guy starts to edge back towards the door, mumbling apologies and avoiding eye contact.

“No, wait,” Liam finally calls, stopping him before he can make it out the door. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m, um…I’m kind of bad with, um…with social situations and jumping to conclusions too? Except instead of retreating I tend to kind of…freeze. And avoid. As you kind of…already know. I thought…I thought maybe we had a thing too but…I wasn’t sure and then I convinced myself that I was just making it all up or that even if it was real you definitely wouldn’t want, um…wouldn’t be interested in me anymore if you found out I had a baby so I just kept…avoiding you and then when you showed up I kind of freaked out and didn’t know what to say, kind of like now. But I swear me and Niall and Louis are definitely _not_ a polyamorous type of deal—”

“We could be if you’re game,” Louis cuts in with a wink in their direction and an overly flirtatious lilt to his voice. Liam ignores him.

“Anyway, _I’m_ the one that’s sorry for any confusion I caused,” Liam continues, “and I’d really like to stay friends with you if that’s okay although I totally understand if all this is too weird for you and you just wanna, like, change routes or whatever. I won’t, like, hold it against you or anything.”

The Guy smiles, bright and sunny and Liam just about turns into putty on the spot. “How about we just try and start over, yeah? Friends?” he says, sticking his hand out to Liam and Liam smiles back, taking The Guy’s hand in his with a sharp nod.

“Friends,” he affirms.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, you _obviously_ still like each other!” Louis says throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Clearly neither of you were listening to a word the other said like the rest of us were so I’ll translate. Liam: Hot Bike Messenger Guy doesn’t care that you have a baby as long as you’re single, and he’d still very much like to get in your pants. Hot Bike Messenger Guy: Liam’s basically already in love with you and doesn’t care an iota about whatever all that shit was you were blabbing about that you’re sorry for and would also very much like to get in your pants. _Now_. Can you two just agree to go on a fucking date already and save us all from this retched joke of an ending to this rom-com so we can get on to the good part with the happy ending and the rolling credits and blah blah blah?”

Both Liam and The Guy turn to each other and start to say at the same time, “Do you—sorry—no, you go ahead.”

“ _Jesus Christ_ , do I have to do _everything_ for you?” Louis groans. “Alright, look alive you two, you’re going on a date at that Italian restaurant around the corner at 8pm tomorrow. Meet there, eat, kiss. Go back to Messenger Bike’s place to mess around if you want. Me and Nialler’ll watch the kid. Are we all agreed on the game plan?” The both of them nod enthusiastically and Louis claps his hands together, satisfied. “Alright, team… break!”

There’s a beat of silence and then everyone else around the station’s dining area breaks out into cheers and loud catcalls and whistles, Niall included. Louis just smirks proudly like he’s accomplished a job well done. Which, in a way, Liam supposes he has.

Liam turns back to The Guy, smiling shyly. “So, um…I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I guess you will,” The Guy says, smiling back, hair in his face again as he starts to back towards the door slowly. He pushes it open with his back to it, flashing Liam one more smile as he turns, calling over his shoulder, “Oh, and my name’s Zayn by the way. You know, so you guys don’t have to keep calling me Bike Messenger Guy.”

“I believe the correct terminology was _Hot_ Bike Messenger Guy,” Louis corrects, shouting in the direction of the door.

Liam hears a soft chuckle and then the door clicks closed and he’s gone.

 _Zayn_ , Liam repeats in his head. _Zayn, Zayn, Zayn, Zayn_. It sounds just as beautiful as he looks, a fitting name that couldn’t suit him more perfectly, made all the more meaningful by just how long Liam’s waited, _longed_ , to hear it, to feel the shape of it on his lips. And now that he finally can it feels like…he doesn’t even know. There are no words to describe it. He just _feels_. And it feels incredible.

*

Gorged on great drinks and an amazing meal they do in fact go back to Zayn’s place to “mess around” as it were. Normally Liam wouldn’t dare to go that far on a first date, both on account of not knowing his date well enough _and_ not wanting to come across as a slag, but these are special circumstances. And even besides that Liam already feels like he really _knows_ Zayn, which might be crazy to say just one date in but that’s how it feels. That’s how it’s always felt. Like Zayn was just a missing puzzle piece he hadn’t known he needed in his life until the moment they met. A lot like Baby. Not that he really wants to be thinking about Baby right now when he’s got Zayn’s hands and mouth all over him and can feel them pressed together skin to skin, electric everywhere they’re touching.

But it’s the same, that feeling, like _this_ is right where he’s supposed to be, who he’s supposed to be with. This is the path he was meant to be on to lead him right here to this moment where he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed in his life in the two people that complete him.

When they come, it’s together, and it’s the most _incredible_ feeling he’s ever felt, feels like coming home after being lost for too long and they settle into the sheets together surrounded by Zayn’s art—drawings and paintings and collages and photos and figurines—and it’s the most relaxed Liam’s felt in a really long time.

“Is it too soon to say I love you?” Zayn whispers later into the quiet of the room, the two of them wrapped around each other like twine.

“Only if by too soon you mean not soon enough.” Liam smiles and it’s dark enough in the room that they can barely make each other out now with the lights off and only a sliver of moonlight peeking in through Zayn’s curtains to illuminate the bottom half of the bed, but Liam can somehow still sense Zayn’s answering smile as he traces the dark lines of ink over Zayn’s skin. “I’ve wanted to say it since practically the moment I first met you.”

There’s a brief beat of silence and then, “Me too,” Zayn confesses, soft like a secret, and Liam’s never felt his heart so full.

*

Zayn officially meets Baby for the first time less than a week later. Because Liam had considered waiting for all of about five minutes before he realized there was no point since Zayn was always going to be in his life regardless of what form that might take. Whether they ended up staying together or eventually broke up and decided to go back to being friends or something in between, it wouldn’t matter. All Liam knows is that Zayn is in his life to stay regardless.

So less than a week later Zayn officially meets Baby for the first time and the first thing he does is stare at him. Real close with furrowed brows. Liam is bemused to say the least.

“Mmm…I don’t see it,” Zayn mutters, so low Liam’s pretty sure it was meant more to himself than anything but he can’t stop himself from asking.

“See what?”

Zayn turns to him in surprise, clearly not expecting Liam to have heard or been paying attention, and stutters. “I—I, um. Okay. This is gonna sound really weird and completely mental, considering, but…remember how you told me the mum—the one who left the note—was called Amira?”

Liam nods, feeling a bit on edge, not quite sure where this is going.

“Well…there this was girl that used to work at the company. Not as a biker but as, like, one of the people that registers the orders in the system and assigns the packages to the appropriate route. Anyway, um…her name was Amira. She was half Pakistani, like me, so we got on, kind of bonded over that a little I guess, among other things, but she could also be a little bit judgy at times cause she was super devout. Which was why it was kind of big news when she all of a sudden up and quit about a year ago and rumors started flying that it was because she was pregnant.” Liam does the maths. Baby’s about six months, which would mean, if all of this is true, around the time Amira quit she would’ve probably been about three months along, just starting to show. “I always just assumed it was people being racist arseholes, you know? Trying to start crazy rumors about her just cause they didn’t understand her or didn’t like her cause she was different from them. We didn’t really keep in touch after she left, not that I would have asked her about it anyway, but when you said his mum was called Amira and with him looking a bit Asian…I started to wonder.” Zayn bends over and squints at Baby again as he sits in his high chair, probably thinking it’s some sort of game with the way he squeals excitedly with a gummy little smile and slaps at the table with his tiny hands. “He definitely looks a bit Asian, that’s for sure but…” Zayn shakes his head, standing upright again. “I don’t see the resemblance to her. Still, that doesn’t necessarily rule it out completely. I mean, he’s still young enough that he doesn’t really look like _anyone_ yet so.”

Liam bites at his lip, looking from Baby to Zayn. “Do you think, um…do you think you might be able to get a hold of her contact info from the company maybe?”

“You…you would want that?” Zayn says.

Liam shrugs. “I mean, I know it’s a risk if…if it turns out she _is_ his mum and she wants him back, but…it’s also a chance to maybe finally legally adopt him, you know? If she’s willing to, like, sign over her rights and that and…maybe even give me legal guardianship if she knows he’s got a good home and that he’s loved…”

Zayn nods, crouching back down to pull faces at Baby to his delighted giggles. Liam smiles fondly as he watches Zayn attack Baby with tickles to get him giggling again and then picks up the cheerios Liam gave him to play with—he’s still too young to actually eat them—one by one from the little high chair table and airplanes them through the air in front of him. Every single flight of one through the air gives him endless delight and he bangs on the table for more, laughing and squealing with joy and Liam wishes he could bottle this moment for how absolutely perfect it is. Especially knowing it could all change soon if things don’t go the way he hopes.

*

The first thing Amira does when they knock on her door a few weeks later is stare. “ _Zayn_?” she says in bewildered disbelief, before launching into a barrage of questions, namely how he managed to find her, who Liam is, and why they’re here.

Once she’s gotten over the initial shock, not only of seeing Zayn on her doorstep out of the blue but also of why they’re there in the first place, she invites them inside, looking a bit shaky and avoiding their eyes.

She makes them all tea and they sit at the little dining table in her small flat in a bit of an awkward silence, none of them quite sure what to say.

“Do you, um…do you wanna see photos of him?” Liam starts, already reaching for his phone in his pocket.

“No,” Amira says quickly, shaking her head, eyes still trained down at the table.

Liam drops his hands back to his lap awkwardly. “Oh…um, well…he’s doing really good. I mean, we still haven’t named him yet,” he says not even realizing until after the fact that he’s said “we” instead of “I” because Zayn’s already become such a permanent fixture in their lives over these last couple of months it’s like he’s been there all along. “But he laughs at everything, he’s a really sweet kid, almost always smiling. He’s hit all the major milestones right on time and he’s even just started growing in his first tooth, which hasn’t been all that fun for _him_ , teething and all, but—”

“ _Don’t_. Don’t tell me anything about him please,” Amira says, a desperate edge to her voice though she still won’t look up at them. “I don’t want to hear any stories or…or see any photos. If I do it’ll only make me want him and I c—I _can’t_.” She looks up then, shaking her head slowly and there are tears in her eyes. “My family…they would disown me if they ever found out. That’s why I did what I did. I promise you I’m not some monster I was just… desperate. I didn’t…I didn’t want to let him go,” she says voice cracking as she hurriedly wipes away the tears running down her cheeks. “But I _had_ to. I’m…I’m glad though…that he ended up with you.” She looks up at them again, managing a small, watery smile. “I only took him to Johnny cause…I felt like I had no other choice. I didn’t want him to end up in the system and I thought…I don’t know, that maybe at least being with family would be a little better, you know? At least he’d have that. But…Johnny would’ve been a shit dad. If he didn’t just take him straight to a home himself.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes and wiping away the last of her stray tears, sniffling a little. Looks to be trying to pull herself together as she sits up a little straighter and flashes them a more genuine, if still small, smile. “At least now I know he’s in good hands with people who love him. That’s…that’s all I really wanted for him and I can tell you really care about him. That’s enough for me. That has to be enough. Just…if you can…just promise me one thing?” she says, turning to Zayn now. “Just promise me that, when he’s old enough, you’ll teach him about…about his culture? Where he comes from?”

“Of course.” Zayn nods.

“And that…that he was wanted? I don’t want him to think he wasn’t wanted, or—or loved, I just—” she cuts herself off, voice cracking again but Liam reaches out to lay a hand over hers.

“He’ll know,” he says with as much certainty in his voice as he can muster. “He’ll know.”

“Thank you,” she says softly, looking up at them both again with teary eyes, right into Liam’s eyes and then Zayn’s, sincere. “I know I can’t ever repay you, or—or _him_ …for what I’ve done, but… _thank you_. And I’ll—I’ll sign anything you need, whatever documents or anything, whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

Liam shares a grateful smile, reaching out under the table with his other hand to squeeze Zayn’s in his. “What you’ve been through…you don’t have to apologize. I know it can’t have been an easy decision, choosing to do what you did, and I’m ashamed to say I judged you for it when I didn’t know the whole story, but…what you’ve given us, even without knowing it…what you’re giving us _now_ , doing this…that’s more than repayment enough.”

*

“Samir,” Zayn says definitively, squinting at Baby. “He looks like a Samir.”

Zayn’s sat cross-legged on the floor, face inches from Baby’s as he squints at him in scrutiny yet again. He still has Baby’s toy train in his hand from where they’d been in the middle of playing choo-choo trains a moment ago. He’d been cooing over Baby, saying his name—well, his temporary name—over and over in an adorable little baby-voice and Liam had just sighed exasperatedly mumbling how at this rate the poor kid really was gonna be doomed to a life of being called Baby. And so Zayn had gone all serious and leaned in and looked at Baby real hard and now here they are.

“Samir,” Liam repeats, testing out the way it sounds, the way it _feels_. On his lips, in his heart. “I like it.” He breaks out into a grin. “It’s _perfect_.”

Baby— _Samir_ —lets out a delighted cry, giggling and bouncing and flapping his arms excitedly from his spot on the living room floor and Liam’s taking it as a sign that he likes it too. Striding over, Liam leans down and scoops him up into his arms.

“Samir,” he muses. “What do you say, huh? You like that?”

Samir claps and giggles some more in Liam’s arms, letting out a gleeful little shriek and Liam’s taking that as a definite yes.

*

Zayn is there for Samir’s first tooth, his first word—in English and in Urdu because Zayn’s taken to speaking to him in both—his first steps, first birthday. He’s there for it all, a constant presence by Liam’s side, constant hum in his heart.

He’d moved in unofficially after only a month of them being together even though his place—which he still pays rent on and keeps most of his art at, since not all of it would fit in Liam’s tiny flat, and which has the added convenience of being a nice little getaway spot after nights out that they can come back to and just relax, among _other_ things—is bigger and has an actual bedroom separate from the rest of the flat unlike Liam’s. But Liam hadn’t even spared a moment to worry if they were moving too fast or if they should maybe stop and talk about all this because it just felt right. Like it was exactly how everything was supposed to be and so when Zayn proposes just days after Samir’s first birthday Liam doesn’t even hesitate to say yes.

Before long Samir is calling Zayn baba and on particularly rough nights will only go to sleep to the sound of both of them singing together. And, once he’s past that awkward baby stage where he doesn’t really look like anyone in particular and has started to look like an actual person with his own distinct features, everyone who meets him says it’s uncanny how he looks just like them. Gushes delightedly over how much they look like a family whenever they’re all together, and every time Liam swells with happiness.

Even Louis eventually joins the bandwagon.

“You know,” he muses, sat on Liam’s couch watching Samir play on the floor in front of him, all geared up for a night of babysitting while Liam and Zayn get ready for another date night, “it _is_ kind of creepy how he looks like he could _actually_ be you guys’ child. If that were biologically possible, I mean.”

Liam and Zayn just grin.

*

As if things couldn’t get any crazier, Zayn’s friend Harry just so happens to catch Louis’ eye at a pub the five of them are all supposed to be meeting up at literally minutes before Liam and Zayn arrive to introduce them all to each other. Niall can’t hold in his laughter when they’re all crowding into the booth they’ve chosen, Liam’s hands full with the tray holding their first round while Zayn leads Harry over to their table.

“What?” Zayn says to Niall, eyebrows crinkled as he looks around clearly trying to figure out what he missed that’s so funny.

Niall shakes his head, lips pressed together trying desperately to hold in more laughter. Glances at Louis—who’s looking down at the table, uncharacteristically coy—then at Harry—who has a small smile playing at his lips as he fiddles with all the rings on his fingers—and bursts into another fit of laughter before finally choking out, “Lou was literally just at the bar chatting him up before you came in.”

Liam blinks at him. “You taking the piss?”

Niall snorts, shakes his head vehemently. “I swear. Christ, you should’ve seen him he was practically salivating, all like _who’s that and where can I get more_?”

And, well, for Liam it’s just yet another sign that their fates really are aligned and all of this, all of _them_ , were meant to find each other. Were meant to be a family.

*

A double wedding on the lawn of the fire station with Samir as the ring-bearer— guided by Niall and his own soon-to-be fiancé Shawn so Samir doesn’t trip his way down the aisle or get distracted and veer into the rows of guests—is the perfect end to a more perfect two years than Liam could have ever dreamed. Sometimes he still can’t believe that this is his life, that he got this lucky. That they all did. But yet here they all are.

And they might not have planned any of this but through some crazy sequence of events they’ve ended up here and they couldn’t have asked for a more happy ending. Couldn’t have asked for a more perfect family.

**Author's Note:**

> (yes, I’m aware that I’ve already used the name Samir in the _other_ [ziam kid fic I wrote](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685471) [shameless promo] but i like the name okay so we’re just gonna pretend like _that_ Samir doesn’t exist for the purposes of this fic and if i ever write another kid fic where i happen to name the kid Samir again we’re just gonna follow suit like we did here and pretend like neither this one nor the other one exists. got it? ok good.)
> 
> thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoyed! as always comments and kudos = love :)


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